


A Perfect Date

by Jlocked, The_Lady_of_Purpletown



Series: Perfect Boyfriends All Year Round [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cake, Cake Disaster, M/M, Miscommunication, Valentine's Day, mormor valentine, sebastian saves the day, valentine date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:08:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29435835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jlocked/pseuds/Jlocked, https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Lady_of_Purpletown/pseuds/The_Lady_of_Purpletown
Summary: Jim is gonna romance Sebastian off his feet. Even if it kills him!
Relationships: Sebastian Moran/Jim Moriarty
Series: Perfect Boyfriends All Year Round [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067516
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	A Perfect Date

Jim had a boyfriend. He actually had a real, genuine boyfriend. It still didn't feel quite real, but there was no denying it. Not a day would pass without them exchanging at least a handful of texts. They'd meet up several times a week to hang out, share a meal or take a walk, and Jim had even spent a couple of nights at Sebastian's flat.

He hadn't had Sebastian around his place yet, but that was mainly because his studio flat was just too small for company. And too messy.

Sebastian had asked once about coming over, but Jim had brushed it off and it had never come up again.

One of these days, when he was done with his current projects, he would take a day off and get everything sorted. It wasn't like it was filthy or anything. He did his dishes and laundry and took out the trash regularly—things just had a tendency to pile up. The bookshelves held stacks of computer magazines and journals, as well as a box full of old notebooks, so his books were piled up in the corner by the sofa next to three half-empty computer towers and a box full of components that he was definitely going to assemble into working machines one of these days.

His DVDs were stacked against the wall next to the TV, mixed in with the few games he'd bought along with the console he never really used, except for streaming on the rare occasions when he had a night off. And wasn't with Sebastian.

Next to his bed, a small single (which no longer doubled as an apt description of Jim, thank you very much), was a minor cluster of desks that held his computers and various other hardware and three chairs that were only missing four wheels combined.

Okay, so he might need a bit more than a day, but he'd get it done. And then he'd have Sebastian over and they could snuggle on the sofa and play something, if he could locate the second controller, which was probably under the sofa or behind the closet, which currently held more empty boxes than clothes.

Jim sighed.

Sebastian's flat was so nice. With all that space and clean surfaces. Though Jim had to admit that the first time he'd seen it, he'd nearly given up on the whole relationship thing. But so what if Sebastian was a little too fond of Christmas? Jim could live with that. After all, it was only one month a year, and if Sebastian got this carried away every time, Jim could just make sure December was extra busy so he wouldn't have to come around as often.

If... If they were actually still together by then. Jim was really getting ahead of himself. They'd only just had their one month anniversary, a thing that Sebastian had insisted that they just _had_ to celebrate, and Jim was already thinking almost a year into the future. As if he'd not manage to fuck it all up way before then.

But he might not. Perhaps.

Best-case scenario, they'd have almost ten months ahead of them without horrible music, tastelessly lurid displays in shop windows and awkward compulsory gift exchanges, Jim thought to himself, unable to suppress a small, content smile as he turned the corner of the high street.

He stopped. He stared. He sighed.

How could he have forgotten the horror that February held?

Jim pulled his cap low and his shoulders up as he hurried past the first few windows cluttered with pink and red sparkles. Keeping his head down, he was spared the worst of it but nearly tripped over a large bucket full of cut roses that were blocking half the narrow entrance to the supermarket.

"Something for your sweetheart?" a man asked cheerfully.

Jim hissed at him.

He was looking for his favourite bread, ignoring the disgusting display of heart-shaped, fondant-covered cakes, when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

Smiling, he pulled it out.

_'Hey there handsome. What are you doing on Sunday?'_

Jim shivered and nearly dropped his phone. Of course Sebastian would want to see him on _that_ day. Of course he loved it. How could he not? With all the colours and decorations. The cakes and chocolates.

At least there weren't any Valentine's songs.

Were there?

Jim looked at the phone.

_'I'm working.'_

When had he typed that?

He frowned, added a quick _'Sorry',_ and hit send. He'd make it up to Sebastian another day.

_'On a Sunday? Good luck and don't forget to take time to yourself. Or I'll have to make you ;)'_

Jim let out a sigh of relief. Sebastian didn't seem to mind, so maybe he hadn't been planning something big. Maybe it wasn't such a big thing to him?

Jim made it past checkout, dodged the rose bucket and was almost past the bakery when it hit him.

What if it _was_ a big thing to Sebastian? The way he cared about holidays, it was probably an absolute given for him that a couple should spend that day celebrating. And Jim had just brushed him off...

Maybe Sebastian thought Jim didn't really care about him. That he wasn't serious about them.

But he was, he really was. And he couldn't lose Sebastian over something this silly.

No! If that was what it took to keep his boyfriend, Jim was gonna make this the best damn Valentine anybody had ever had. He was gonna romance Sebastian off his feet. Even if it killed him!

…

_'Maybe we could meet for a pint after I get off?'_

Sebastian only saw the new text as he came out of the shower. He chortled at his phone and typed back:

' _Or we could meet for a pint and then I get you off.'_

He felt a little silly being so relieved that he wouldn't have to wait a day longer before he saw Jim. It had only been two days, but he really enjoyed being around him. It was way too early to talk about living together, but Sebastian had found himself daydreaming about it a few times.

He’d found himself a job as a construction worker two weeks after he first met Jim. He wasn’t sure he’d be in it for the long run, as the work felt quite mundane after the life he’d been used to—though there was a certain thrill in having to do things exactly right if he didn’t want to waste a lot of time, materials, and money. But it also meant that he and Jim now had two work schedules to manoeuvre around, so there really was no chance of seeing each other sooner than Sunday.

Sebastian opened the calendar on his phone to make absolutely sure he wouldn’t forget about their date (as if)—and froze. It was the fourteenth on Sunday. The fourteenth of February.

He’d forgotten all about the existence of Valentine’s Day. He hadn’t been in town to see the decorations and ads for years, and his previous relationships hadn’t exactly been the romantic sort. Jim himself wasn’t quite the romantic sort either, considering he’d needed to be convinced into having somewhat fancier food cooked for him by Sebastian for their one-month anniversary—because, honestly, it was as good a reason as any to have some fun in the kitchen and spoil the cute man. But still, this felt different from anything Sebastian had had before. Long-term. Like… Like they _could_ actually live together someday.

And now Jim had been keen enough to make sure they’d see each other on _Sunday_ , even though he might be rather tired after a day of work. Surely it meant that he expected something. That Sebastian should make sure Jim got a nice surprise. Especially considering that he had to work. He deserved every nice thing Sebastian could make happen in the limited hours they had.

A plan was already forming in his mind as he typed:

_‘To be clear, that means we’re on. At what time do you expect to be finished?’_

…

Jim had tried. He really had. He'd spent almost 15 minutes standing outside the first shop, staring at the window, trying to convince himself he did not find the lurid display of pink plastic hearts, scarlet velour bunnies and gold-coloured chocolate (what was that even?) disgusting and more than a little alarming. Eventually he'd realised that the staff inside were starting to give him nervous looks, probably worried that he was getting ready to rob the place, and he'd hurried on. The bakery's display wasn't quite as horrid, but the line of customers snaked through the shop three times and out onto the sidewalk, and he'd just hurried past. He'd written off the florist as well and that left only the supermarket. There was no way he was treating Sebastian to a box of generic budget chocolates or a factory-made cake.

He'd all but despaired when he had come up with one final, desperate idea: he could make a cake himself.

How hard could it be?

Very hard, it turned out.

It started out well. He'd read the recipe carefully and put out all the ingredients he'd need, double-checking that he had the right kind of flour and enough sugar (which was a frankly ridiculous amount). But the recipe was filled with abbreviations and vague descriptions and by the time he'd gotten the damn thing in the oven, he was close to tears.

And he _was_ actually supposed to be working today, putting the last touches on a patch that was already overdue. He'd figured he could whip up the cake and then he'd have at least an hour to work while it baked and then cooled, still leaving him plenty of time to decorate and box it before he was meeting Sebastian. But he'd had to redo the batter three times and the clock was running out. He had to get started on the buttercream right away and just pray that the cake would be cool enough to not melt it if he waited until the last minute to apply it.

Jim groaned.

Why the fuck had they not stressed at _the fucking start_ of the recipe that you had to take the butter out of the fridge to give it time to soften up, rather than casually mentioning that at the point where you were supposed to actually _use_ it?

But he was not gonna let some smug stick of dairy get the better of him. He tossed it into the bowl, drowned it in powdered sugar, cream and colouring, and attacked it with the mixer. If only he'd had one of those fancy ones they used in ads and on cooking shows that could work on its own, things might have gone differently, but he only had the old hand-held one that Molly had given him years ago and the second it hit the hidden but not subdued butter, it began bucking and twisting in his hand, almost sending the bowl spiralling off the counter.

Jim whimpered, braced the bowl with his free arm and pressed the mixer down, ignoring the jarring vibrations it sent through his shoulder. He could do this. He had to.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of struggles and tears, he was left with a bowl of an acceptably smooth mass of pink goo. With a relieved sigh, he put the mixer down, barely saving the bowl from being dashed to the floor by the errant cord and allowed himself a moment of blissful peace.

Then it registered. The still faint but unmistakable smell of something burning.

The girl at the checkout kept giving him strange looks, but Jim didn't care. Sure, buying a boxed, slightly crooked heart-shaped chocolate cake with pink icing and glitter hearts two minutes before closing time on Valentine's day was not his proudest moment, but being judged by some random teenager was the least of his worries.

His kitchen was a mess. Possibly beyond salvation. Maybe he should just give up and move.

Or maybe not. That might actually be a bigger hassle than facing the daunting task of cleaning up after his failed venture into the nightmare-realm of baking.

But it would have to wait until tomorrow. He was already running late. Even if he skipped the shower and just threw on a clean shirt and some deodorant, there was no way he could make it to the pub on time. He'd have to text Sebastian, but he'd left his phone at home when running to the shop, so even that would have to wait.

He was panting and once again fighting back tears by the time he, awkwardly balancing the cake in one hand, finally got the key into the lock.

It wouldn't turn.

Jim's blood turned to ice. He had never in all the years he'd lived in London forgotten to lock his door even once. Was he that far gone? Was he finally losing his mind?

The handle turned and the door swung open. Jim gasped and was about to bolt. Then he realised it was Sebastian.

“Hey. I heard the lock so I thought I’d best let you in. Or fight off whatever burglar was trying to enter.” He grinned, but then his eyes landed on Jim’s face and he frowned. “Er… Are you okay?”

"I... I'm... What are you doing here?" Jim managed.

“Oh.” Sebastian blushed and stepped aside to let Jim pass him. “I wanted to surprise you… I was thinking about cooking dinner, so I hope you don’t mind I did your dishes?”

"My dishes? But my kitchen is... was..." Jim cringed. Sebastian had seen the mess he'd made. How was he ever going to be able to take Jim seriously again?

Sebastian shrugged. "Mine's looked worse when I’ve been experimenting in the kitchen. Or maybe not worse, but... You know." He winked at Jim. "I take it you were working from home?"

Jim shrugged helplessly. "I tried?"

“Well, I won’t mind if you take a moment to finish up,” Sebastian said, picking up the surprisingly clean-looking baking tin. “I guess my timing would have been a bit optimistic even without the dishes, so I’ll be a while.”

"No. I mean, thanks, it's fine, I'll just..." Jim made a vague gesture, then realised that he was still holding the cake and, after an embarrassingly long pause, held it up and offered it to Sebastian. "Happy Valentine. Or... is that what you're supposed to say?"

Sebastian grinned. "No idea. I've never done this before."

"Oh... I thought..." Maybe that was why he cared so much about the holiday. He'd never had anyone to spend it with. "Okay."

“Happy Valentine.” Sebastian put the cake down and leaned in for a small kiss. Then he ran a finger through Jim’s hair and studied the pink, sticky goo he’d caught there before bringing it to his lips. “Hm. Not bad. But maybe you should take the time to take a shower while I make pizzas?”

"What?" Jim tried to look up, undoubtedly making himself crosseyes. "Oh no..."

He tore himself free from Sebastian and ran to the bathroom, almost bursting into tears when he saw himself in the mirror. It wasn't so much the streaks of flour or dried droplets of milk across his face and chest. He could live with that. But right there, teetering on the edge of his hairline, threatening to cascade down across his forehead any second, was a large dollop of bright baby-pink buttercream...

He had walked down the street like this. He had gone through the shop like this. And worst of all, he had talked to Sebastian like this! He'd thought the smile and crinkling of Sebastian's eyes had been out of fondness of seeing him, not amusement.

Sebastian must be laughing at him right now...

Or heading out the door.

He had seen the distressing state of the flat. The post-apocalyptic wasteland that was Jim’s kitchen after a single attempt at baking and finally the walking disaster that was Jim himself, running all over town with food in his hair. Pink food!

How could Sebastian possibly want to stay with someone so pathetic?

All the talking and even the kiss had just been him being nice. And now he'd finally gotten Jim out of the room so he could make his escape.

And Jim couldn't blame him. In fact, he was going to stay in here so long that Sebastian would have plenty of time to gather whatever he had brought for this cataclysmic date.

Jim surrendered to the tears as he slowly undressed and got into the shower, letting the hot water scald his skin and for a brief moment burn away the pain.

When he finally got out, he didn't bother drying himself, just kicked his soiled clothes into a corner, wrapped a towel around his waist and headed out, hoping he could find the old grey t-shirt he had 'borrowed' from Sebastian's flat the second time he was there.

Wearing it would be torture at this point. The sweet kind of torture he deserved for being such a failure at life.

"Good timing!" Sebastian's voice almost gave Jim a heart attack. "I'm just about to take the pizzas out of the— Ooh. I didn't know we'd reached this part of the evening already..." Sebastian licked his lips as his eyes dropped down to the towel, looking decidedly hungry.

"Oh, I... I just forgot to bring a change of clothes, I'll..." Jim darted past him over to the closet and grabbed the first things he could find. He was about to drop the towel, then realised Sebastian was still watching him. "I'll be right back." He fled back into the bathroom.

Sebastian was still here... Which meant that even though he'd seen Jim at his messiest, he still wanted to be with him. How could that be? How could anyone be that... sweet?

Jim dressed slowly, put on his best deodorant and tried to flatten his hair before stepping out again, putting on his most charming smile. "Something smells divine."

"Something does." Sebastian grinned, the predatory glint still in his eyes. "Oh yeah, and the pizza doesn't smell bad either."

Jim giggled and headed for the fridge. "We have to sit on the sofa so we might as well watch something. Want a beer?"

“Yeah, thanks.” Sebastian opened the oven, intensifying the delicious scent, and pulled out two gloriously meaty pizzas.

It was Jim's turn to look ravenous as he followed Sebastian over to the sofa. He switched on the telly, grabbed his plate and was about to take the first bite when a thought struck him.

"Uhm... Seb... How did you get into my flat?"

“Er…” Sebastian sheepishly put the knife down. “There’s something I should tell you…”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Kittentine! Happy Valentiger!


End file.
